Ha. Well, it was nice while it lasted. He'd made a few friends, sorta. He'd had a few hot meals. He'd had a roof over his head. He swore he'd never take it for granted.

I'm grateful. Really.

Elliot shrugged on his jacket, hiding the web of faded pink scars that hatched up his arms, and slung his satchel over his shoulder as he headed down the street. This place was a ghost town lately. They wouldn't miss one more student, not in all this chaos. There were bigger fish to fry. Maybe, when things were better, he'd be able to see this place again. Re-enroll, see Lucy and the rest, maybe stick around long enough to get sorted into a house. On his way here, they'd said it'd be better. It'd be safe. That he wouldn't have to worry anymore.

He couldn't blame them for being wrong. They hadn't tried to lie. Things just didn't turn out that way sometime. Even here, there wasn't any shelter from them. The people who'd taken everything from him.

A part of him would be glad to leave. Every time he thought he'd gotten a bit more comfortable around these... people, it crept back up on him again. Flashes of a town burning. His family dying. It wasn't their fault, but he couldn't shake that unease that he was around something inhuman, unnatural. Gifts created monsters.

Well, he didn't have to worry about that anymore. The Owen family were hunters. He'd been raised for this, even if he'd always rejected it. You couldn't escape that kind of fate. One by one, he'd take them all down, and take them all out, even if it took the rest of his life. Elliot patted his jacket, searching for the familiar comfort of a knife. He'd be alright. Until then...

Elliot glanced over his shoulder when he'd reached the outskirts of town, toward the school outlined under the sunset.